


i'll always lift you up

by wisterispidey



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Panic Attacks, Peter Parker Has Issues, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Has Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:09:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23833648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wisterispidey/pseuds/wisterispidey
Summary: Patrol was going perfectly fine until Peter got part of a building thrown at him.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 4
Kudos: 85
Collections: The Friendly Neighborhood Exchange





	i'll always lift you up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sandyk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sandyk/gifts).



> hey this was my exchange fic for sandyk! i ended up mixing your first prompt (peter and tony in scary peril and realizing how much they care for each other) and third prompt (peter using his super strength) together. this was the end result; i hope you enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it <3

It was supposed to be a regular lab day.

Tony had been planning on sketching up a new schematic for the next version of the Iron Man suit, and adding some upgrades to the kid's suit—after the whole shooting fiasco last week he was _not_ gonna let him get hurt again.

“Boss,” Friday alerted, “there’s been reports of a disturbance in Midtown.”

Tony’s brows furrowed. “Who is it?”

“It’s an unknown villain,” she answered smoothly, “but Spider-Man—”

“What about the Spiderling?”

“He seems to be having a little bit of trouble.”

Tony frowned, a little bit of trouble was usually not just _a little bit._

“And by that you mean...?”

“His blood sugar levels are extremely low, and Karen’s scans detect a lot of mental fatigue.”

Tony sucked in a breath, he was definitely _not_ panicking right now. 

“Looks like we’re going for a fly today.”

* * *

Patrol was going perfectly fine until Peter got part of a building thrown at him. 

He looked at the person—who wasn't actually a person, he looked more like a wannabe Hulk made of cement, and sighed.

There was a huge stack of homework waiting for him at home, and all he wanted to do right now was take a nap, but noo. 

Apparently the new guy called himself the _Destroyer_ —which was definitely unoriginal—and he also liked throwing buildings, or really anything that was within his reach.

He also found out he didn’t talk that much. The most Peter heard from him was when he had angrily growled _the Destroyer!_ when Peter asked what his name was and a bunch of grunts.

Peter would like to think that he was doing perfectly fine right now—and definitely not running on no food or sleep.

Definitely.

“Spider-Man,” a voice drawled, “how ya doing?”

Peter sighed, and now Mr. Stark was here. 

“Fine,” he calls out, swinging away from a fire hydrant the Destroyer threw at him. “The Destroyer’s, well, destroying so if you could just—”

He winced when a billboard sign grazed his arm.

Damn it, how was he gonna prove to Mr. Stark he was doing perfectly fine as a superhero, and that he wasn’t just a kid.

“Are you sure about that?”

Peter dodged a car. “Yup.”

“No offense, Mr. Stark,” Peter looked at him, “but why are you here?”

Tony stopped. He _knew_ why he was here even if a part of himself didn’t want to admit it—he cared for him, and he was worried for the kid. 

After that whole homecoming fiasco, he promised to himself he’d try better for the kid, but he wasn’t sure _how_ he was supposed to let the kid know.

Howard hadn't exactly been the best role model.

“Because Fri said Spider-Man was having a little trouble,” Tony examined the damage, “and she was right.”

Peter waved him off, he _could_ do this by himself. A plan was already forming in his mind. If he circled around the Destroyer with his webs he could hopefully restrain his arms and prevent any more of Midtown being thrown around. Kinda like a cocoon. 

Peter huffed, and shot his webshooters toward the villain.

And that would’ve gone well except he was sleep deprived and starving, and he completely missed him.

Tony’s heart jumped, his suit already flying towards Peter because the kid was gonna fall, and if he fell—

Peter easily caught himself with his webs. 

Tony breathed a sigh of relief.

“Boss,” Friday warned, “the Destroyer is heading towards you.”

“Hey Destroyer,” Tony whirled around, “if you could stop this right now it’d be really nice.”

A grunt. And then Tony shot away the piece of building the Destroyer threw at him. 

Tony's eyes locked onto Peter as he swung himself back into the scene, apparently unbothered by him almost falling. _It's what the kid does, he's like a spider monkey._

“Mr. Stark, I have this handled!”

Then Peter shot his webs towards the guy again—he didn’t miss this time. But what he didn’t expect was for the Destroyer to grab his webs and swing _him_ into a building. God, he hated physics sometimes.

Also, that was definitely gonna leave a bruise. 

Pain coursed through his body, his heightened senses amplified the feeling of cement scratching his suit. Just like homecoming.

_The dust clogged his lungs, the weight of stone, cement, and panic crushing his chest. Peter couldn’t breathe, there was no room, there wasn’t anyone else but him and he was gonna—_

“Kid!”

Peter startled, his eyes wide when he looked at Mr. Stark flying straight toward him. The Destroyer had a car aimed straight at him and shit, he couldn’t let him get hurt too. Not like Ben.

“Mr. Stark, watch out!”

And he swung himself in front of the Iron Man suit, taking the brunt of the car’s impact, an excruciating pain shooting up his arm. 

God, Peter was so never gonna touch a car again.

“Kid,” Tony said softly, “you good?”

Tony was mad—really mad, and if the Destroyer threw _one_ more thing at Peter he was going to flip.

“Kid, please, just listen to me,” Tony asked him, “stay down, I know you can handle this, but _please.”_

Everything in Peter fought against it, but he was so fucking tired and he was 99% sure something in his arm was broken.

And Mr. Stark _knew_ he could handle it, which meant that he at least knew Peter was doing fine, so he _had_ proved something to him.

Peter reluctantly nodded, and Tony made sure he swung off someplace safer. 

And then Tony flew back towards the wannabe Rock Monster, a repulsor aimed at him.

“Okay,” Tony fired a shot at him, “playtime’s over, chop chop.”

That did _not_ make the Destroyer happy.

He roared, running towards Tony and for someone who was made of rock, the Rock Monster could jump pretty high.

Tony jolted when he felt a rocky hand against his arc reactor, years of betrayal surfacing back into his head.

_Obadiah taking the arc reactor out of his chest. The shield slamming down, cracking the reactor—_

Tony sucked in a breath. Not now, he couldn’t be doing this now. And then he flew backwards, trying to aim at the monster's hand.

But a loud _crack_ filled the air, and Tony struggled to do something as part of the chest plate ripped off, taking the arc reactor with it.

Fuck.

“Boss!” Friday called out, “You have to…”

Friday shorted out, and a wave of panic washed over Tony when his HUD blacked out. Darkness flooded his vision, just like that cave had been.

_The cave was dark, the air reeked with the smell of sweat. Tony startled awake, meeting the eyes of a stranger._

_He looked at his chest, horror coursing through his veins. His hands instinctively reached towards the contraption in his chest, only stopped by the voice of the stranger._

_“I wouldn't do that if I were you.”_

_Tony looked at him._

_“What the hell did you do to me?”_

* * *

Peter actually _was_ planning on staying down. 

But then Karen had told him she’d lost contact with Friday (not good) and that Mr. Stark was likely in trouble (very not good.)

So he swung back into the scene, heart pounding when he realized he couldn’t see Mr. Stark anywhere.

“Hey Destroyer!” Peter called out, catching the monster’s attention, “Watch this.”

He ignored the burning pain in his arm, the adrenaline fueling his movements.

This time Peter didn’t let himself mess up—he had to find Mr. Stark, there wasn’t any time for mistakes—and he circled around the Destroyer.

A surge of relief ran through him when he finally managed to restrain the Destroyer. Peter swung around, arms shaking as he mustered all of his strength to cocoon the monster with his webs.

Peter sighed once he was done, and the monster roared at him.

He silenced him with his webs.

“Karen, where’s Mr. Stark?”

A few seconds passed by before his AI answered.

“My scans show,” Karen paused, and Peter heard the worry in her voice. “They show that Mr. Stark is under that building.”

Peter’s blood froze. His eyes trailing towards the building she’d highlighted on his display. 

It looked like it had taken most of the damage caused by the Destroyer. 

“Karen,” he whispered, “is there anyone else under there?”

She hummed a negative, and Peter swung towards the broken building. His AI marked where Mr. Stark was, and he carefully examined the rubble.

If he lifted this slab, he’d be able to help Mr. Stark out, and prevent more of the concrete falling onto him at the same time.

Peter lifted, arms shaking at the weight of the concrete. He made out the iconic red of the Iron Man suit and he swiftly shot his webshooters at the suit.

“Quickly Peter,” Karen whispered, and he tugged on his webs.

Relief washed over him when he managed to pull Mr. Stark out from beneath the building. He set the slab of concrete down and looked at the suit, wincing at how scratched and battered it looked.

“Karen, is Mr. Stark…”

Fear rushed through his veins. Mr. Stark wasn’t moving. Just like Ben during _that_ night. He couldn’t let this happen again, he _couldn’t._

“He’s unconscious, Peter,” she quickly reassured him, “should I call Helen Cho?”

Peter hummed an affirmative.

Mr. Stark was okay.

* * *

Tony woke up to the bitter smell of saline and a loud, irritating beeping.

Medbay.

His eyes met the bright, artificial glow of the ceiling lights and he winced.

“Mr. Stark?”

Tony met Peter’s eyes, and he could see the kid visibly relax.

“What’s up, kiddo?”

There was something in Peter's eyes, and he couldn’t determine _what_ it was, but Tony had to fight back the urge to just hug the kid.

“I—are you okay?” 

“Of course,” Tony replied breezily, “why wouldn’t I be?”

Peter gave him a look. “You had a building dropped on you.”

Tony winced. He couldn’t remember that part, but he definitely _felt_ the pain.

“Life,” he said, “it happens.”

There was still something in Peter’s eyes, and Tony’s heart dropped when it finally clicked where he’d seen that look before.

He’d seen it all the times he stared at his reflection, guilt and regret weighing against his chest, and _shit,_ what happened to the kid?

“Kid,” he muttered, “can I ask you a question?”

Peter nodded.

“Are you okay?”

And maybe it was the way Tony said it—with care, and a gentleness that was akin to Uncle Ben’s—that Peter finally broke.

“No,” his voice trembled, “no, I—Mr. Stark, I don’t think I am.”

“Kid, come here,” Tony gestured to open space on the hospital bed. 

Peter sat down by Tony, careful not to accidentally touch any of his injuries. 

Dr. Cho had told him Mr. Stark had a minor concussion, and with last week’s incident with a streetlight, he knew exactly what a concussion felt like.

“I—I’m not the best,” Tony paused, “when it comes to those feeling things sometimes.”

Peter nodded and he was a bit (read: really) surprised about the shoulder hug Mr. Stark pulled him into, but he leaned in, warmth and comfort soothing his mind.

“But um, I _do_ care about you kid, a lot,” he paused, “and if you need help, I’m always here.”

Warmth raced through Peter at Mr. Stark’s words, and he turned towards him, a soft smile gracing his face.

“Mr. Stark?”

“Yeah, kiddo?”

A pause.

“I care about you too, a lot.”

Tony smiled, finally ignoring his past reluctance and pulled the kid into a hug.

“Um, are we there yet Mr. Stark?” 

“Yeah,” Tony agreed, affection laced his voice, “we’re there.” 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! kudos, comments, and reviews are appreciated <3000


End file.
